


Nothing Ridiculous

by Anonymous_Nerb



Series: There is absolutely Nothing Ridiculous here. Trust me. [1]
Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Added GDoV archive warning bc there def is violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Gen, IS THE WORST, No beta we die like Tien, Tien (Stormlight Archive) Lives, Wait nevermind, hate it, idk how graphic it is but yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Nerb/pseuds/Anonymous_Nerb
Summary: Tien Lives, and that changes things. A lot. As in canon is almost as dead as Honor, at this point. Inspired by my love of Theatre Kid Kaladin.If you have any interesting ideas or headcanons about what could happen, feel free to comment them! If they work with the story I may use them. Anything goes.
Relationships: kaladin/therapy
Series: There is absolutely Nothing Ridiculous here. Trust me. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193255
Comments: 28
Kudos: 20





	1. Prologue: Kaladin, now with 70% less trauma!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story gives some minor characters from canon important roles. So for anyone who doesn't keep track of minor characters (which honestly, mood), Coreb is from Kaladin's backstory when he served in Amaram's army. He was a member of Kaladin's squad around the time that Kaladin beat the Shardbearer. Kaladin tried to give away the Shards to him, but he urged Kaladin to take them. Not that it mattered anyway when Amaram killed him.

Tien wasn’t supposed to be out there. He was a messenger boy, Amaram  _ promised _ . Kaladin sprinted, fueled by the pure adrenaline of terror. Up ahead, he could make out the massacre of battle. A few seconds later, and he plunged into the throng.  _ Please be safe _ . 

Kaladin had been afraid before, but that was nothing compared to the desperate terror that he now felt. The clashing soldiers all around were vague shadows that his mind ignored in favor of scanning for Tien’s face, leaving his instincts to keep himself alive. The faint stinging of barely-evaded cuts were irrelevant, when Tien could be  _ dead _ . 

At last, Kaladin spots Tien. He could cry in relief at the knowledge that he didn’t let Tien die, he didn’t fail, but the battle was still raging all around them and someone was running toward Tien and - Everything blurred as Kaladin’s body went through the familiar motions of  _ charge, dodge, stab _ . And then everything came back into focus and the attacker was dead, speared through the heart. And Kaladin turned back to Tien, and he was lying on the ground covered in blood and - 

Kaladin didn’t remember much after that.

* * *

Afterwards, the doctors told him that Tien would survive, but barely. They sounded impressed that a darkeyed soldier like Kaladin knew how to do surgery. Kaladin himself barely remembered earlier, when he had allegedly offered to help with Tien when all the qualified surgeons were occupied with other soldiers. That was probably a bad thing. He couldn’t quite bring himself to care, though.

He didn’t remember the fight itself, either, when all the other soldiers offered to hold a party for his feats and subsequent promotion. Apparently he had single handedly held the line against the enemy, defeating dozens of his opponents. Some of the other messengers who _shouldn’t have been there_ looked at him with awe in their eyes, whispering _Stormblessed_ amongst themselves. Kaladin looked away, uncomfortable with their worship when in truth he had failed to protect the one he was there for in the first place. 

Kaladin went to the party. He spent a few minutes drifting, barely sipping the cheap wine. Coreb approached, face covered in laugh lines. His smile fell away once he caught sight of Kaladin’s own face. “Are you alright? I haven’t seen you since the battle, and… You don’t look so good.”  


All around them, fellow soldiers lived and laughed and were just so _bright_ , and Kaladin just felt like a dark smudge on the atmosphere. “No,” he whispered. “I can’t be happy about it all when… “ He trailed off, hesitant to talk about Tien when everything was still so uncertain and raw. “Someone I cared about got hurt.” 

Coreb’s eyes widened, and he cursed. “Storms, I wondered why you were there. I didn’t even think of that.” He looked around, as if questioning the lively atmosphere for the first time. “Want to be somewhere quiet, or is distraction better for you? I know a place with a good view.” Kaladin shrugged; his head may have been clearer than earlier, but it was still so hard to think around the overwhelming crush of everything. Coreb nodded and tugged on his arm, leading him out of the throng.

They walked through the cool, crisp night. With the sounds of celebration receding in the background, and the rest of the camp near-silent, it felt like Kaladin finally had room to think. It was… kind of nice, having a moment to calm down. Except the worry for Tien was there, always in the background. With nothing to distract Kaladin it came back to the forefront of his mind. The next couple minutes of walking filled his mind with a growing anxiety.

At last, they arrived at the spot. It looked like any other hill at first, but then Coreb pointed up. The sky was spectacularly clear, filled with stars and the moons looking perfectly round. The sight of starspren weaving in the sky took Kaladin’s mind off his fear, if only for a moment.  


“Beautiful, isn’t it? There are never any clouds between here and the stars. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a weather thing, or a spren thing.” Coreb smiled at Kaladin; not his wide, energetic smile from the party, but a gentle, comforting one. Despite himself, Kaladin found the corners of his own mouth lifting. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here. If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll still be here. These kinds of things… they can be hard to deal with. Just know you aren’t alone.”

Kaladin took a moment to just look at the stars, surreptitiously wiping away tears. He breathed, gathered his thoughts, and at last decided. “It’s my brother, Tien. He’s not dead, but he was badly hurt and they don’t know when he’ll wake. And he, he wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to just be a messenger. Amaram _promised_. I’m only here because I promised to protect Tien and I _failed_.” Kaladin took a deep, shuddering breath. He felt so many conflicting emotions, it was hard to contain them all. Tien had always been able to comfort him, to help him understand all those overwhelming feelings. But Tien wasn’t here.

And so Kaladin found himself talking long into the night. First about all the confusion and pain he felt at Tien’s current status, then about their childhood and what it was like to grow up together. By the end of the night, Kaladin found himself smiling at fond memories and laughing at bad jokes Coreb made. He returned to the camp tired, but lighter with happiness and hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coreb and Kaladin have such a wholesome qpr. Love it when my brain randomly decides to make a minor character important, it's actually really interesting. He has plot relevance and everything now! Although most of that will happen in the background so it probably won't be known to the reader for a while after the Prologue. Sorry about that.


	2. Tonal Whiplash

Kaladin was cleaning up after a fight, when he learned that Tien was finally awake.

As soon as Kaladin heard the news, he rushed past the messenger who had told him to the tent where Tien was being cared for. A part of him hardly dared to hope, but he managed to push aside that fear for the few minutes it would take to confirm. And sure enough, when he pushed through the door flap there Tien was, tired but alive and smiling. Immediately, the world seemed brighter.

Tien noticed Kaladin, and his smile solidified into something more real as confusion and distress were replaced with relief. “What…“ He cleared his throat, and Kaladin obligingly brought him a cup of water. The attendant, sensing the atmosphere, left. “What happened? They said I got hurt.” 

Hearing it stated so bluntly made Kaladin’s heart ache at the memory, but with Tien here he was easily able to brush away that pain.  _ He’s alive, he’s here _ . “Yeah. It’s been a couple days, but I’m just glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t make it.” 

Tien hummed, and looked down at his hands. “I don’t want to lose you, either. You… you make sense, even when everything else doesn’t.” He fiddled with his hands, like he wanted something to do with them. Obligingly, Kaladin took the rock he kept in his pocket (‘ _ Hey Kaladin, look what I found! _ ’) and handed it over. 

Gingerly, Tien reached out to take the rock. He stared at it for a few moments, turning it over and over. Then he started crying. Startled, Kaladin moved to his side. “Are you oka-” Tien pulled on his arm, and held Kaladin tight in a hug. After he registered what was happening, Kaladin hugged back just as firmly. They stayed that way for a while, just taking comfort in the fact that they had each other, that they were both alive.

Somebody entered the tent, breaking the moment. Kaladin whirled around and saw the attendant. They looked apologetic, but were nonetheless assertive when stating, “I’m sorry, but you have to leave. You can visit again later.” Tien smiled (the fake one ) and motioned at Kaladin to go. Reluctantly, Kaladin left.

* * *

Kaladin walked out of the tent, satisfied by the knowledge that Tien was okay despite the premature departure. He was a few steps away when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned, startled, to see Coreb.

“Sorry about that. I called your name but you weren’t responding. Listen, though, I heard something and. We need to talk about it. Dinner’s in a few minutes, you up for going to that hill I showed you afterwards? I think this discussion may not be the best to have around other people.” His tone was lighthearted, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. Confused, Kaladin agreed; something was wrong, but he had no idea what. Hopefully if Coreb was willing to wait the few minutes for dinner, it wasn’t anything time sensitive.

Dinner was some kind of stew, but Kaladin barely registered the taste of his portion as his mind puzzled over the strange scenario. He was finished long before anyone else, and didn’t bother getting refills even though his rank gave him that privilege. He ran into Coreb a few dozen meters into the trek outside the camp. Coreb gave him a small smile, but didn’t say anything until they arrived. It gave Kaladin a feeling of deja vu, walking this path while wrestling with the emotions inside of him. He hoped this wouldn’t become a pattern.

On that hill once again, Coreb finally started talking. “I saw you talk to the messenger and leave in a hurry, so I followed you and waited outside the tent. Well, I heard a conversation out there. Some lighteyes apparently heard that there was an injured messenger boy. They demanded he get sent out there. Didn’t even care that he wasn’t healed enough. I think… they’ll probably try to use him as bait, like the messengers last time.”

Kaladin registered the words, but it took him a minute to process them. Tien had just barely healed, and they wanted to send him back out? Back into the fray that he should have nothing to do with, that he… No. Kaladin was supposed to protect him. He could not let this happen.

“Coreb. Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this conversation?” Coreb looked surprised, but agreed. And Kaladin told Coreb about his plan.

* * *

Kaladin looked at the small Soulcast locket in his hand. Something landed on his hand; he reached up, feeling at the tears on his cheek. “Oh. Thank you.”

Coreb just smiled. “I’m sorry it had to turn out this way.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhh I'm crying at my own writing why do I do this to myself
> 
> Yeah have fun reading this
> 
> I’m honestly so curious what people think when I write stuff, when I know all the context but they only have parts of the puzzle. So if you have theories about future/hidden events, and want to, go ahead and comment them! (Can you tell that my favorite trope is dramatic irony?)


	3. I swear I didn't mean for the Prologue to be this many chapters but there's still more coming after this so. Yeah.

Early the next morning, they began setting the stage. Metaphorically.

Kaladin may have been popular, but more the ‘admire from a distance’ kind than the ‘actually interacting with people’ kind. As such, it was up to Coreb to talk to people and suggest another party. Thankfully, one of his acquaintances had recently been promoted, giving a decent excuse to host one. 

Kaladin played a very important role, namely that of standing in the background and pretending he wasn’t listening in. His fantastic poker face helped.

After the idea of a party had been soundly established in the minds of their peers, all Coreb had to do was wait. And Kaladin, he needed to talk to Tien. With Coreb promising to act as a guard, Kaladin took a deep breath and prepared to put the final piece of the puzzle in place. He entered the tent.

* * *

Tien looked up and smiled at seeing Kaladin again. There was nobody else around this time. “You’re back! We didn’t get to actually talk last time, did we? Sorry about that.” He stared vacantly at the rock turning, turning, turning between his hands. Kaladin smiled and placed his own hand on Tien’s to reassure him. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter. There’s something I need to tell you about.” Kaladin glanced around, double checking there was no one eavesdropping. Still, he leaned in and kept his voice low as he continued. “They plan on sending you back out there.” 

Tien tried to interrupt to say something, but Kaladin motioned him to be quiet. “If you stay, you’ll die. They made it clear they don’t mind using people as bait. So we’re leaving, but we’re being careful about it. We can’t  _ just _ leave. They need to think we’re dead, or they’ll send people to hunt us for desertion. Most of the plan is already set up; nobody will miss a few supplies disappearing during a party, and if we sneak away during a battle they probably will think we got killed. We’ll probably have to leave Alethkar, but that doesn’t matter as long as we’re still  _ alive _ . Okay?” He stared desperately at Tien, voice pleading and afraid.

All of Tien’s protests seemed to die out when he looked at Kaladin’s face. “Yeah… I can do that. As long as we’re careful about it.” He fell silent for a few seconds, clearly thinking about something. “I think I know something that could help.” He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and glanced around in a manner reminiscent of Kaladin double checking for listeners. “Mottle, come out.” A patch of shadow by the curtains moved, revealing itself as a. Spren? 

It looked like pure darkness, the kind that shifted with colors as one’s eyes sought a pattern inside of it. Kaladin wondered what it had to do with everything, but his questions were answered - to some extent - as the spren began to speak. “Ahhh, Kaladin. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Its voice had a deep, almost rumbling tone. Kaladin had never seen any spren like it, much less one capable of speech. Kaladin spent a few seconds silently staring before realizing he should respond, but Tien continued before he could say anything.

“Because of Mottle, I’m able to do things with Stormlight. They say I’m a Lightweaver. Here, hand me that sphere.” Still in a vaguely stunned stupor, Kaladin did as requested. With a single breath, Tien  _ sucked in _ the Stormlight. And then he held up his rock, and when Kaladin looked at his eyes looked different; they were the same shade of dusty red as the rock. “I’m able to change the color of things, or keep people from seeing them at all. I think if we -” A loud crashing sound from outside the tent interrupted him.

Kaladin cursed. “That’s probably Coreb, I asked him to keep watch. We can talk later.” After returning the  _ temporarily borrowed _ sphere, he gave Tien a quick hug. “See you then.” With one last smile, he left to ask Coreb what happened. 

* * *

As expected, Kaladin ran into someone at the entrance of the tent. The attendant looked surprised to see him, but stepped aside. Looking in the direction of the earlier crash, Kaladin spotted a sheepish-looking Coreb next to the rubble-y wreckage of a toppled wall. Kaladin whistled; those stout walls were Soulcast, and did  _ not _ break easily. Behind him, the attendant spoke and echoed his thoughts. “Don’t know how he did it. I couldn’t knock those things over if I tried.” Kaladin grunted his agreement, then paused and turned around.

“You’re in charge of taking care of Tien post-recovery, right?” The attendant looked surprised, but nodded. “Thank you for that. I’m wondering, how has he been? I haven’t seen his injury yet, is there any permanent damage?” The thought of Tien being injured enough to be disqualified from military service filled Kaladin with a strange combination of dread and hope. On one hand, they wouldn’t need to go through with this elaborate plan that made them fugitives. On the other, the idea of Tien being permanently hurt because of him… Kaladin didn’t know which outcome was worse. 

The attendant seemed more confident after a few moments to collect themself. “Actually, his recovery has been remarkable. I’m not a doctor myself, but there were no complications that required I bring one in. Once he woke up, his wound healed unusually quickly. I’m here to release him, in fact.” Kaladin felt a rush of relief, with a side of disappointment. He quickly thanked the attendant again, then excused himself to talk to Coreb.

Coreb seemed to be thinking along similar lines, as he motioned Kaladin to follow as he walked away from the dispersing crowd of amused onlookers. Remembering what the attendant had said, Kaladin held up his hand and looked back at the tent. Sure enough, Tien soon went through the tent flap. Now that he knew to look for it, Kaladin could see a patch of darkness following through the grass. Kaladin waved at him, and soon all three (or four, technically) conspirators were walking to the barracks. 

On the way, Kaladin eyed Coreb and was about to ask  _ how  _ did _ you manage to knock down that wall? _ , but he started talking first. “So, I talked to some people, and they confirmed that the party is happening. Tonight, actually. Kaladin, I know you’re not much one for parties. Figured you may hang out in your barracks instead, catch up with your brother and all that. Make sure not to get into trouble.” The meaning was clear: Coreb would be going to the party, which left Kaladin and Tien to gather supplies. They should be careful not to get caught. Thankfully, with Tien’s new, ah,  _ party trick _ that would be easier than ever.

The next few hours, they spent ironing out the details and experimenting with Tien’s abilities. Soon, they would have to act. But for now, they could rest and savor the rest of their time spent together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all see what I did there ;)
> 
> I'm interested in exploring all the facets of possibilities hinted at, but not explored by, canon. Since there's no defined constraints on the capabilities of, say, Enlightened non-Mistspren, in my stories I can theoretically say they're capable of anything that largely fits the patterns established by canon. 
> 
> I got a few ideas for that already, but not much set in stone. As always, I'm open to ideas in the comments.


	4. This isn’t illegal what are you talking about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minor canon character explanation: Varth was a squadleader who was sent Tien and some other messengers as reinforcements. He used them as canon fodder (was that a typo? Yes. Will I remove it? No.) to break the enemy line, turning “a liability into an advantage”. The kind of pragmatism Kaladin would hate. Especially since, you know, the whole dead brother thing.

Positioned as he was near the supply warehouse, Kaladin could hear the ongoing party’s raucous laughter and loud voices. It was almost time for the guard change, which would be when they began. Beside him, Tien was nervous but confident. He knew what to do.

At last, they heard a conversation start up from the direction of the warehouse. In a military camp, nobody ever dared steal from the communal supplies; it was just foolish. There would be no more battles until tomorrow evening at the earliest, either. That meant the guards were lax, and the new shift hadn’t cared much for limiting their alcohol consumption. Their mistake.

A few minutes later, the drunk guards had settled in and the previous guard shift was nowhere to be seen. Kaladin nodded at Mottle, who quickly left to give Coreb the signal. They returned with a gaggle of half-conscious partygoers, led by Coreb, to distract the guards. The plan was in motion. 

With a Stormlight breath from Tien, Kaladin and Tien faded out of view. Sneaking to the entrance was easy, when they didn’t have to worry about visibility. Within moments they were inside and setting up to steal supplies.

They had decided what they would take earlier. Military rations were designed for caloric efficiency, so they should be easy to pack. Tools for daily use, like razors and clothing, were already available to them. Beyond that, the only… There. They wouldn’t have access to medical supplies while on the run, so a small pack of bandages was the bare minimum to bring along. With that, Kaladin was done. Tien was nearly done too, so he sat down to wait.

Outside, he could hear the guards talking to Coreb’s group. “So there I am, just minding my own business, and outside I hear this noise. It’s a Highstorm, right, and nobody nearby foolish enough to be out and about. That’s what I think, at least. But then the noise happens again, and again, and so I go to the window and you won’t believe what I see.” 

Somebody spoke up. Their voice was vaguely familiar; it was probably one of Coreb’s friends. “Oh? What was it?” 

“Now that’s the funny thing, I look out and it’s-” Something touched Kaladin, startling his attention away from the story. Almost a pity, with how amusedly skeptical Kaladin had felt while listening. Truly tragic. Tien was motioning him to hurry up, indicating that he was done. Kaladin nodded and picked up his pack, following as Tien sucked Stormlight from lanterns on the wall and re-established their invisibility. The operation was over in minutes, with nobody the wiser.

* * *

With supplies stashed away and plan in place, there was nothing for them to do but wait and train. For Kaladin, it was a relief to direct his energy. Something about moving with the spear just felt  _ right _ . He didn’t know how long he spent in that state of euphoric movement before he was disrupted. His name was Varth, he thought. He wasn’t sure how exactly he knew that name. “Yes?” Kaladin prompted, deciding to stay noncommittal until he knew more. 

“You’re good at that. The kid from earlier was your brother, right? Glad he survived. I think I could help you, actually. See, the Highmarshal likes stories of the Radiants. You get what I’m saying?” 

Kaladin did, but something about this situation was wrong; he had a feeling that he did not want these people to know what Tien was capable of. And even more, he felt a part of himself recoiling at the idea of working with Varth. So he squinted and used his best disbelieving voice as he asked, “What do the Radiants have to do with my brother?”

Varth looked mildly disappointed at the response, but continued. “That doesn’t matter. Let’s make a deal; I’ll assign you to the same squad as your brother. You get to keep him safe, and you tell us if you notice anything odd. Got it?” Kaladin had a hard time keeping himself from showing the repulsion he felt, but his excellent poker face came in handy for the time between when he nodded his (supposed) agreement and when Varth was finally out of sight. 

Mood thoroughly ruined, he left the training grounds to find Tien. Hopefully he would know who this ‘Varth’ is, and why Kaladin recognized his name. 

* * *

“Varth? I was assigned to his squad, when. You know. But if they really suspect me… there's no going back.” Tien fell silent, morose. 

Kaladin thought of before they had been recruited, how Tien had wanted to stay home. But after this it would be impossible, not just now but forever. Still, there was a chance. “Hey.” Kaladin sat next to Tien and gave him a side hug, and was rewarded with a weak smile. “I wish this wasn’t how things turned out either, but that doesn’t mean you lost everything. I’m here, and we can find a new life where you can carve without that jerk of a master. And with your powers, we could probably travel back once everything dies down, talk to the people we left behind. What do you say we write one last letter?” 

It was a hollow comfort, but it did the trick. They could only go forward, one step at a time, but sometimes that was enough: the promise of a content future, and the memory of a happy past.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t even intend to have Varth appear until I started writing the scene. Stories really do have minds of their own, huh.


	5. All in favor of getting the hell out of here say ‘Aye’

They would have to start preparing for the battle soon. Kaladin felt like he was in some strange transcendent state wherein he was hyper aware of everything except himself. Logically, he knew he was dissociating. But imagining dramatic descriptions of his situation was making for a surprisingly good distraction from the worry. As did the windspren flying directly in front of his face, although that was more of a nuisance than anything. 

The order to line up was given. Tien still wasn’t there. Kaladin went through the motions with the rest of his squad. Next to him, Coreb looked him in the eyes and gave him a solemn salute. In order to play off the strange interaction as a joke to everyone else, Kaladin cracked a smirk and said something. He wasn’t sure what, though. 

Near the end of their squad’s lineup, there was a disruption. Coreb nudged Kaladin, who looked up and saw - Tien. Immediately, the air seemed lighter, and Kaladin could concentrate again. Seeing them, Tien made his way over. “What do I do?” he asked, nervously glancing around. Kaladin moved aside, motioning to the extra space he made in the line. Getting the hint, Tien moved in and tried his best to look like everyone else who was ready.

They were sent out. Normally, battle was something like a dance to Kaladin, as he sought to outmaneuver the enemy soldiers. Today, though, it was no game. Tien’s life was on the line, and he  _ could not fail _ . So Kaladin struck out aggressively, instead of flowing. The plan required it. 

The opportunity they were waiting for arose. An enemy behind Kaladin had sought to attack, and Tien ran out of formation to shove them aside. When he looked at Tien’s distressed face, Kaladin had to forcibly stop himself from dropping everything to comfort him right then. Instead, he quickly dispatched the enemy - once again trying to ignore the sick horror Tien reacted with - and made a show. “Get out! If you stay here you’ll get killed!” 

Deliberately misinterpreting his command, Tien ran away from their squad toward the outskirts of the battle. As Kaladin produced a string of vehement curses and chased after him, he could vaguely hear Coreb telling the squad to forget them. Silently, he thanked Coreb for staying by his side all this time.  _ Farewell, and good luck _ . 

As much as Tien failed at fighting, he was decent at dodging through the throng. It may have been difficult for Kaladin to keep up, had he not been trained playing the same games that made him skilled at running in the first place. At some point, Tien changed the color of his armor to match that of the enemy side. He didn’t have the same problem with fake fighting as he did real fighting; in Kaladin’s opinion, their display of grappling after Kaladin ran full force into him was rather well done. With a jerk, he made it look like his throat had been slit by a hidden dagger. And then they waited.

* * *

The fighting moved away, and at last Tien could work his magic, so to speak. It may have been rude to search the dead soldiers around them, too, but the living were more important than the dead, and they needed any Stormlight they could get. Kaladin found a few spheres, which he held in reserve for Tien. Then, invisible, they both left to collect their supplies.

At the hill that felt so familiar to Kaladin despite him only learning about it a week ago, they took a break. They had escaped, they had their supplies. They had won. Yet that success hurt too. Kaladin reached into his bag and found the locket Coreb had given him, taking a moment just to stare at it before looping the chain around his neck. 

Tien looked on curiously, but didn’t comment. Instead, Mottle did. “What’s that?” 

Kaladin hesitated, thinking of what to say. “It’s from Coreb, since he couldn’t come.” Mottle hummed - in understanding or curiosity, Kaladin couldn’t tell. He changed the subject; they had to move on soon, anyway. Who knew when the next Highstorm would be. “Let’s go. We should be close to the border, and the sooner we get there the better.” Kaladin stood up, then held out a hand for Tien.

Tien took it. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyy finally the end of the Prologue. I think I like how it turned out. 
> 
> Be free, my (not *my* but you get what I mean) children, and cause chaos :)


	6. Part One: Your signs can’t help me because I can’t read

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sibs arrive in a new town. What shenanigans shall ensue?

Thankfully, they arrived in Topina - a small Herdazian port - before the next Highstorm. It was a close call; they wandered the near-empty streets for a few minutes before they ran into someone, who looked similarly surprised to see them. The person shouted something incomprehensible, waved their arms, then left. The brothers followed, and arrived at a storm shelter.

Trying not to think of how trapped storm shelters made him feel, Kaladin entered after Tien. He could already hear the winds of a Highstorm blowing against the building. The door was quickly closed, albeit not before a windspren managed to flit inside.

With the avenue of escape blocked, Kaladin had little to do but observe his surroundings. There were many people in the shelter, what looked like maybe a fourth of the town. The one who had guided them approached them and spoke, although this time they must have registered the lack of comprehension as they asked, “Alethi?” 

Kaladin nodded. By his side, the windspren did the same. He ignored it. 

The person returned the nod and held up a hand - saying to wait? - to them before leaving. They were left alone, with nothing particularly interesting and the winds attacking the building of stone they were trapped in. 

Well, nothing interesting except for the windspren, who was now standing on Tien’s head and was, if nothing else, very dedicated at mimicking Kaladin. Kaladin raised his eyebrow, skeptical. It was hard to tell with the form consisting entirely of light and blueness, but he thought he saw the spren do the same. Glare for glare, yawn for yawn. It was kind of amusing, actually. Maybe he could train the spren to be a mini-him, following him around and emphasizing everything he said.

Before he knew it, the person who had helped was back, followed by a Thaylen. After being pointed toward the pair, the Thaylen quickly spotted them and headed their way. The other person looked relieved to have fulfilled their responsibility, and left the group alone. “You are Alethi, yes? And you just arrived.” Kaladin nodded; that was about right. “ _ Kalbst _ . Okay. You may call me Drakb. Do you have any skills? Jobs? Or are you just here to wait out the storm.”

Kaladin paused to think. It really depended. “Tien, what do you think?” Drakb seemed to notice Tien for the first time; Tien himself looked excited. 

“I like carving, doing stuff with wood… and Kellad, he’s good at healing people. He’s a doctor!” Kaladin suppressed a wince at the false name. No matter how much he had practiced reacting to it on the trip over, he doubted he would ever get used to being referred to incorrectly. As if sensing his thoughts, the windspren crossed its arms and shook its head in disappointment. 

Drakb sounded reassured when next she spoke. “Well, those are some handy trades. Doctors and woodworkers always come in handy at a port. Though the language barrier may be an issue… I can probably get you some initial contacts. You’ll have to pay your own rent, though.” Well, they certainly had money, even if they ran out of Stormlight a while ago. The rest of the time spent waiting out the storm was occupied by a _truly_ thrilling conversation about finances and the local real estate market.

* * *

Finally, they were freed from the shelter. According to Drakb, their best bet for a place to stay was the  _ paya _ -something. It was just a short walk from the storm shelter.

In theory. 

In practice, the slip of paper with instructions did nothing for them when neither of them knew how to read, or even speak the local language. They wandered around for a short time before Mottle asked where they were going. Mottle, who could apparently read. 

So it was with minimal awkwardness that they arrived at the inn, and minimal fuss that they paid the small weekly fee, and minimal complaint that they got to sleep in the first decent beds that they’ve been within sleeping distance of in a while. 

And nearby, a spren opened her mouth and spoke her first words in a long time.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing a language barrier so much now. Language barriers are the worst. Though learning new languages is a pain and English is an objectively horrible language so they’re a fact of life… well, anyway. 
> 
> If I somehow really messed up the representation, let me know.


	7. Let Kaladin sleep :(

Kaladin woke the next day - more like night, really - to an energetic spren spouting what sounded like nonsense in his face. Tien was still asleep, dead to the wo- ah, bad word choice. Tien was very asleep. Kaladin wanted to be very asleep too. Alas.

When trying to push the spren away and rolling over didn’t work, Kaladin made himself sit up and acknowledge it. “Why are you following me around?” He made sure to keep his voice low, careful not to wake Tien up. 

The spren tilted its head in response. “Following… why? You.” Followed by another string of incomprehensible words. Now that he was more awake, though, Kaladin realized the words sounded vaguely familiar. The spren, it was speaking  _ Herdazian _ ? Kaladin desperately looked about for Mottle, who would hopefully have some clue as to what was going on. 

Spotting a patch of shadow that may or may not have been Mottle, Kaladin hissed, “Mottle! What is it saying?” A different shadow moved; Kaladin was terrible at keeping track of Mottle.

Mottle hummed, listening for a time to whatever the windspren was saying. “Her name is Sylphrena, but she likes you so you can call her Syl. She also likes the cremling that hid under your bed last night. It’s very pretty. Why didn’t you say hello? What does  _ ‘following’ _ mean? Wh-” Syl, as the spren was apparently named, began copying Mottle, speaking his Alethi equivalents to her Herdazian. 

Kaladin just wanted to sleep. Was that too much to ask for?

* * *

Drakb came to show them to their new apprenticeships a few hours later, since Kaladin had been woken up tragically early. He may have been a morning person, but it was the  _ principle _ of the thing. Although the new development - an entirely new talking spren - was admittedly intriguing. 

“You are ready?” Drakb questioned Kaladin. Kaladin nodded; Mottle had woken Tien with plenty of time to spare. Satisfied, Drakb returned the nod and led them to a squat, but well-lit building. In front of it stood a tall Herdazian, who introduced himself as Bakkai. 

Bakkai looked over Kaladin, then glanced at Drakb and started a conversation with her in rapid Herdazian. Syl, on Kaladin’s shoulder, had a look of intense concentration on her face as she tried to translate what she could to Alethi. “Drakb, she’s saying that she knows basically nothing about you, but you don’t feel like scammers… Bakkai thinks Drakb just likes how well you pay. He doesn’t have time for this, wants to get it over with.” 

As soon as Syl finished talking, Bakkai headed over to Kaladin. “Come, follow.” Kaladin waved back to Tien as he left, reassured that if nothing else Mottle knew where he was. As he walked further into the compound, Kaladin was overwhelmed by nostalgia at the scents of medicine and blood. Strange that even after fighting for ~~Tien's~~ his life, Kaladin still associated the tang of blood with healing pain more than inflicting it. 

They entered a room with a patient, who had a gash on their arm. “You say you are doctor? What do you do?” Bakkai looked at Kaladin expectantly.

Deep into familiar territory, Kaladin easily fell back into his routine from back when Lirin would test him. “Rinse and clean the wound; remove debris - use sanitized tools if at all possible - then bind the wound. Stitches may be necessary, depending on the extent of the wound.” With each step described, Bakkai nodded and handed over necessary supplies. Kaladin carried out the tasks, making sure to comfort and distract the patient for painful steps. Even if he had no idea whether they could understand him. Thankfully, stitches were not necessary.

The patient, who looked both confused and grateful at the random stranger helping them, was dismissed. Bakkai appeared satisfied at Kaladin’s performance, but spoke up to set some ground rules all the same. “You are decent. I will let you work here for me, but if you do not know something, you ask. These are peoples’ lives. No risking them for foolish Alethi pride.” Kaladin had no intention of doing so in the first place ( ~~too many had already died)~~ , so easily agreed. 

  
  


* * *

The rest of the day was spent acting out the motions he had drilled throughout his childhood. It was soothing, and almost let him pretend that those months of war had never happened. Of course, that was a ridiculous lie; in the end of the day, there was no house to return to, just the rented room in the inn.

As Kaladin packed to leave, Bakkai stopped him. “Where are you going? You forgot your pay.” Bakkai handed Kaladin a couple chips and a piece of paper. Kaladin stared at the paper blankly. In a dry voice, Bakkai said, “That’s a receipt. It is for saying this happened. It says so on the - Oh.  _ Hakkala _ , you don’t know how to read. Nonsense Alethi customs. Okay.” With a look of exasperation, he continued, “Learn to read. Doctors need to heal, even if nobody around to help. Your Alethi symbols, glyphs, whatever they’re called? Will not always suffice. Take that advice. Now go.” He waved off Kaladin, then returned to the building. 

The day may have been overall satisfying, but it was also tiring. Kaladin barely registered eating dinner with Tien before he collapsed in his bed. He fell asleep to the comforting background noise of Tien, Syl, and Mottle chattering to each other.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Syl finally actually talks!! Took a while but now I can have Kaladin stop calling her ‘that windspren’, which is nice. And I really like the idea of Herdazian technically being her native language. In canon, she seems to learn it pretty quickly, implying she’s relying at least partially on Connection. In this story, since she’s starting with a bond to Kaladin - who speaks Alethi - but is in a land with Herdazian Connection, she’s able to learn both of them supernaturally quickly. Also it is a huge relief to at least alleviate the language barrier.
> 
> The cremling under his bed really is very pretty.


	8. Still cis tho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> W h o o p s , gave Kaladin a gender crisis. Oh no.

The next morning, Kaladin woke up early but refreshed. He didn’t have much to work on at the moment, so he ran through some exercises and katas. From the corner of the eye he could see Syl watching, and Stormfather knew where Mottle was, but somehow having them as an audience didn’t disrupt him the same way Varth and others had back in Amaram’s camp. 

“Hey, Kala- Ah, Kellad. You went to sleep early yesterday. How did work go?” 

Recognizing Tien’s voice, Kaladin slowed to a stop. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. And, yeah, I really liked it. It was familiar. Though, the doctor I’m working under is... definitely different, in some ways. He suggested I learn to read. And I know that Herdaz is different, and they have a different culture and beliefs. But still, a man knowing how to read? It's weird, thinking about it.”

Instead of the distaste Kaladin had been ~~projecting~~ ~~hoping for~~ expecting, Tien just looked thoughtful. “Well, I’ve actually been thinking about stuff like that,” he admitted. “Tell me... do you think flamespren are feminine or masculine?” Kaladin was thrown off. What did _that_ have to do with anything? He said as much. 

Tien just smiled, like he had expected the reaction. “Mottle is a spren. They don’t understand what all these categories are for, why us humans force everything into all these boxes. We’ve talked about it. And honestly… I feel the same. I don’t feel masculine or feminine; I just feel like _me_ . If I decided to paint a picture, I would still be me. It doesn’t matter whether people think I act masculine because terms, they don’t change who I _am_. Would learning to read change you? Or would it be yourself, just with an extra tool?” Tien tilted his head, genuinely curious. 

Kaladin didn’t know how to feel. A part of him - most, really - loved and supported Tien no matter what, and another part understood the logic of what he said. But there was still a piece of him that was viscerally lashing out at the idea of learning how to read. He had _not_ expected all these feelings when he started talking to Tien. But if there was one thing Kaladin was sure of, it was that he didn't want to accidentally hurt Tien, verbally or otherwise. Deciding to let his mind stew on it for a while, Kaladin distractedly excused himself to go on a walk.

* * *

Syl flitted about Kaladin, rambling about all he missed out on the previous night. Kaladin made interested noises at the appropriate times, but his attention was elsewhere, and he wasn't fully processing what she said. Something in him was adamantly opposed to learning to read, and now that he was questioning it, he couldn’t tell _why_. He felt lost.

As if picking up on his inner conflict, Syl fell quiet and stopped in front of him once they were far from anyone who would think twice at the sight of Kaladin talking to himself. Sensing her unusually serious demeanor, Kaladin stopped as well. “Kaladin,” she spoke slowly, as if she was thinking over each word before she said it. “Why does learning to read bother you so much?” 

Kaladin growled and sat down on the ground. “I don’t _know_ , it just feels wrong and I should just ignore it but. All my life it was only natural that men only do certain things. Everyone else thought so, too. It was the way the world _worked,_ but now my old world is gone and so is everything that just made sense. I'm _not_ home, and when these people are just so different I can't even pretend. Nothing makes sense anymore” He let his head drop into his hands.

There were a few minutes of silence, before Syl spoke up again. “Have you tried looking at it differently? Your expectations may have been wrong, but that. It is normal, isn't it? Coming to wrong conclusions sometimes?" Well, yes. That didn't sate the overwhelming, burning feeling of uncertainty, though. "Think about Tien. He's still here for you, still himself. He's like a... similar thing, but in a different context. And you can adapt to situations, but you can't make another Tien no matter how much else of home you have. Does that make sense?" 

Despite everything, that reminder did help a little bit. He just needed to get used to everything. As long as Tien was okay, Kaladin would be fine. And he would do whatever necessary to make sure that was the case. He lay down and gazed at Syl, who had gotten distracted and was now flying with some windspren in the clear sky above him. "Yeah... thanks, Syl.” 

* * *

When Kaladin returned, Tien had unsure hope in his eyes. “You good?”

Getting his message, Kaladin smiled. “Yeah. Sorry about that, I had to think about things. And I think, you’re right. Reading will be weird, but I should learn to do it.” The air immediately felt lighter, with how excited Tien looked when he said that. What had Kaladin been so hung up on before? “Anyway, I told you about my work but I never got to ask about yours. How was it?”

Tien lit up as he talked. He had a lot to say: how nice it was to work with wood again, how strange it was working on the large scale of ships instead of small carvings, how much more tolerant his new master was, all the cool tricks he now knew. It was nice, just relaxing with each other. A little piece of home, strange but comforting all the same.

And if Kaladin was a diligent student for the reading lessons Bakkai gave him when business lagged, well. It was only rational.

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enby rep is the best, so I shall create it. Unrelated, I love agender Tien, I would kill for he/they. And as for Kaladin... digging into that whole mess was a doozy. Guess that 30% of remaining trauma is finally coming into play. 
> 
> It feels so weird to think that Kaladin is gender noncomforming just bc he’s learning to read. But that’s societal gender expectations for you. 
> 
> Anyway, glad I got that whole cultural taboo on men reading over with. For plot reasons, obviously. After this a status quo is established, meaning my dark-gods-given responsibility is to mess it up again. I shall savor the opportunity. :)
> 
> I did not mean to put that whole "whatever necessary" line in but... aw hell, it's so dramatic I love it. And it feels right for the characterization in the moment. It's not meant to be a 'imminent descent into villainy' thing though, for any of y'all worried about that. Unless I come up with a good idea along those lines sometime in the future, of course. I'm not a heretic who can see the future.


	9. Ah, what a lovely Normal Life. Would be a shame if something were to happen to it.

Over the next couple weeks, they settled into life in Topina. Kaladin made a habit of waking up early - of his own volition,  _ stop that Syl _ \- and running through some exercises, then eating with Tien before they split up for work. He picked up a little Herdazian, too, with Syl’s help. Bakkai was the one who had suggested it, since Kaladin wouldn’t always have a translator in the Herdazian town. 

The day of the next Highstorm approached, and the flow of business at the clinic changed with peoples’ habits. Kaladin himself changed, too; sometimes he felt dreading resignation creep up on him, but Syl or Tien always seemed to sense his mood and cut it off at the root. It was nice to be able to rely on them.

The day the Highstorm was scheduled to arrive, work was cancelled; nobody wanted to sail or fish and risk getting caught outside during the storm. Kaladin and Tien had a few hours free before they had to go to the storm shelter. Kaladin, for one, was glad to have a chance to catch up after having so much time before sunk into work. 

They ate breakfast together, then headed back to their room. Since neither of them seemed to have any urgent tasks to while away their time with, Kaladin asked, “What projects have you been working on?” 

Tien sat up at the question, morning fog apparently forgotten. “Oh, right! Well, there’s a few things. One of them, I was at work, and I realized I could do something. It, like, projected what I intended to make? It was kind of weird but cool and Mottle liked it. So I’ve been practicing that, and also figuring what else I can do.” Tien picked up a diamond chip and breathed in its meager Stormlight, then breathed it back out into the sphere. He held it out to Kaladin.

Kaladin took it and examined it, curious. Tien bounced in his seat, grinning. “I knew it! I can attach the invisibility to that sphere, so I don’t even need to be there. I can’t see you at all, Kaladin!” Surprised, Kaladin looked - or rather, tried to look - at his hand. Indeed, it was translucent like the previous times Tien had made him invisible. 

With his own impressed grin, Kaladin returned the sphere. “Good job. I don’t know how any of this works but you seem to be getting pretty far. What else do you think might be possible?” A shadow moved on the wall. Storms, he could’ve sworn Mottle had been by Tien’s feet. He was never going to get this down, was he. 

Tien fiddled with the sphere. “Well, I have a few theories, but nothing on how to implement them yet. Although… Oh, right. Mottle wanted to test something.” Tien handed Kaladin a sphere - a bright ruby chip, this time - and watched him expectantly. 

Without any instructions, Kaladin had no idea what he was supposed to do with the sphere. He turned it over, messed with it, but his skin remained opaque. With a sigh, he prepared to - oh. Oh. Tien took back the dun sphere from Kaladin’s loose hand, as the implications settled in. Kaladin could breathe Stormlight. Syl was like Mottle. 

* * *

Unfortunately, in the scant time they had left alone before the Highstorm, Kaladin couldn’t figure out how to do anything special like Tien. All that energy was inside him, yearning to break free, but he couldn’t find out how to  _ use _ it. 

Still, the discovery was exciting, and they had found some useful applications. Beyond the obvious, passive effects, Kaladin could technically turn invisible at will by infusing one of Tien’s spheres with Stormlight. And Syl herself had been positively gleeful when Kaladin realized his abilities. 

The time came to leave. Kaladin brought a few small books, long past those first few days of embarrassment at being seen reading. Syl flew off somewhere. Tien hummed a quiet tune under his breath, and Mottle provided a countermelody. Kaladin still couldn’t tell where exactly the spren was. How did they  _ do _ that?

Everything was going fine. They lined up, found comfortable spots, and Kaladin was actually doing pretty well in his reading, considering how new he was to it. It was all fine, that is, until Syl came flying in.

“Kaladin! Someone’s still out there!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing in little foreshadow-y hints. Will [small detail] be relevant? No promises. Does it imply something that could be very, very relevant? Who knows :)
> 
> Sometimes I wonder what the line is between dropping in hints and slamming the audience with a hammer. Then I decide, both. Both are good.


	10. Kaladin may have a little trauma. As a treat.

Kaladin raced out into the streets, ignoring all the curses and cries emanating from the stormshelter behind him. One of the voices sounded like Bakkai. He pretended he didn’t hear it.

Syl flitted ahead, somehow managing to convey agitation and desperation just through her movements. He followed her, sprinting down street after street. He sucked in a breath, grateful he had kept a couple still-infused spheres on him. Their pitiful amount of Stormlight didn’t last him long, though. 

Kaladin could see the stormwall, as they approached the docks. Syl’s voice was nearly drowned out by the wind: “They’re close, just ahead!” He saw a pile of shattered wood on the shore, like pieces of a wrecked ship. And then the stormwall struck. 

* * *

Tien fiddled with a rock, worried for Kaladin. What was happening out there, right now? Syl had been there, said someone was out there. Tien hoped that the chance of saving a life didn’t make Kaladin lose his. People moved around Tien, speaking bland reassurances or hysterical queries. The doctor who Kaladin worked for was there, too. Tien ignored them all. None of the people here had any say in, or knowledge of, what would happen outside.

Mottle hummed a soothing tone. Kaladin could do it. Yes, it was possible. Even if Tien's fear wouldn’t go away, that fear held no power. Fear obscured, but so did hope. It was reality that revealed the truth. Mottle agreed. 

And so Tien waited, and hoped that their reality would be one of light.

* * *

Kaladin was slammed by a wave of water that sent him tumbling. Around him was a mess of confusion, in which everything blended together into chaos. But he could still hear something; Syl was calling for him, voice tinged with fear, and he could somehow make out that glint of blue light. He stumbled forward.

Kaladin’s surroundings cleared for a moment, and he could see Syl hovering over a prone body. He was almost there. He took a step forward; another, just one more- 

Something slammed into his side. At first he felt nothing, as his body fell to the side. His head hit against something, hard. Shouldn’t that hurt? And then the pain did register, and he couldn't breathe because he was bleeding, it all hurt, _there was something in the torso_.

He could barely see through the pain. He could hear a voice, though, if he concentrated. It sounded like, Syl? She was saying something, apologizing, encouraging him. There were words, he needed to keep fighting. He needed to… save someone.

And Kaladin realized, he knew the Words. There was blood in his throat, his head ached, and just thinking was hard. But he managed, one word at a time. Somebody needed him.

“ _ Life before Death _ …”

* * *

When Kellad had thrown all wits to the void and ran out into the Highstorm, Bakkai had thought he would never see his ~~favorite~~ decently competent student again except as a corpse. What he had  _ not _ expected was for Kellad to return uninjured, covered in blood, and with another person draped across his back. Maybe that Alethi recklessness had something to it after all.

Kellad collapsed on the floor, and Bakkai sprung into action. Whether a situation made sense or not did not matter; he was a doctor. “Make room!”, he called. He was aware of the people around him, murmuring and packing themselves against the wall as he crouched over the prone forms. They were alive. 

He had a job to do.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m evil, thank you and you’re welcome. I feed off suffering and tears.


	11. Eye of the Storm

Kaladin woke, groggy, on a bed that was definitely _not_ from his room in the inn. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened to land him in what was, he realized, the clinic. He had a feeling that whatever had happened was significant. A glance around the room revealed a few cots, one of which was occupied. Did that person look familiar? 

- _a rush of energy, somebody he needed to_ save _, the Stormfather frowning and saying-_

...Ah, that’s what happened.

* * *

Bakkai somehow seemed to know that Kaladin was planning to stand up, because that’s when he arrived. After a brief check for adverse symptoms - “Any pain? How does this feel?” - he had some rather choice words to say about the surreal mess of yesterday’s Highstorm. “What in the _Ishin_ _hakkal_ were you thinking? Running into a Highstorm? A slim chance to save a life is not worth risking yours! What even _happened_ out there?” 

It was strange being on this side of the doctor-patient relationship, but there was some part-comforting part-frustrating familiarity in this particular lecture. Kaladin never had been able to just _let_ someone die. He would save that person again in a heartbeat, near-death or no ( ~~even though he had abandoned his squad so easily-~~ ).

Dissatisfied as Bakkai was with that ‘foolish Alethi stubbornness’, he had no reason to confine Kaladin to bedrest. And despite how eager Kaladin was to get out and about, he was admittedly curious about the person he saved. Unfortunately, they were still asleep. Noticing Kaladin’s interest, though, Bakkai provided what little information he had; “Broken leg, many cuts, small infected area. I cleaned up everything, and they are stable now.” Well, it was a relief to know that Kaladin didn’t wander into a Highstorm for nothing.

With nothing else to occupy himself, Kaladin got ready to leave. As he was leaving, though, he caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of his eye. Turning around, he saw nothing except - Oh, that was Mottle. They were there the whole time? Of course they were. They were always anywhere except where he expected them to be.

* * *

Tien was waiting for him outside. “Kellad! Are you okay? I heard what happened.” Syl had been there, so that made sense. And who knows, Mottle may have been following him then too. When she saw him, Syl flitted cheerfully around Kaladin. She seemed more solid now, somehow.

Kaladin gave Tien a small smile and side hug. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry about going off on my own like that, I know you must have worried, I just… it was something I needed to do.” Syl nodded emphatically at his side; she probably had felt it earlier, too, with the Words.

Speaking of which. After they arrived at the inn - Tien’s master had heard about Kaladin’s situation, and gave him the day off - Kaladin told Tien about what actually happened.

He wasn’t sure on all the details before the Words; being gutted and concussed could muddle the mind, who knew. But everything else was more or less clear: the strength the Words gave him, the Stormfather appearing, him somehow using Stormlight directly from the storm to make everything that flew at him miss by the barest of margins. And stumbling all the way back to the stormshelter, soaked; that had been a truly delightful experience. Presumably Bakkai had taken over after that, with how Kaladin had woken up in the clinic.

Tien perked up when Kaladin mentioned the Words, but kept quiet until the explanation was over. “Mottle talked about them, the Words. I think yours are different from mine, but they’re really important. And you said them! Can you do more now?” Tien bounced on his heels, like an energetic axehound. Kaladin found himself excited too; that happiness was as contagious as always. 

Concentrating, Kaladin sucked in a breath of Stormlight and tried to remember how he had felt after saying the Words. Kaladin had done something to keep himself and the stranger from being hit, he was sure. There was no way his survival was sheer luck, in that situation. Unless his ability _was_ luck. But he doubted that. So Kaladin took the power raging inside him, and shaped it, and when he touched his hand to the table he could tell. 

The spot Kaladin was touching glowed with Stormlight, and he could feel a slight pull from it. Tien dropped a small rock near the table, and sure enough it was pulled toward the spot Kaladin was touching. They both stared, at it then each other. Kaladin grinned. “Well, I’m definitely able to do that. And now I know how it feels, I think I can repeat it pretty easily.” Tien dropped another rock, watching as its trajectory was once again bent.

“Wow… and you said it helped you out in the Highstorm? So you moved, boulders and water and? This is so cool, it’s way more useful than changing things’ color.” 

Kaladin frowned at that nonsense. “Hey, what are you talking about? That's probably the most useful ability out of anything. I saw you change your eyes; you could make us _lighteyes_. Maybe not permanently, but they wouldn't be able to tell. Think about it, Roshone was higher ranked than us just because we're darkeyes.” Tien seemed surprised, as if he had forgotten about all that. Admittedly, it hadn't been much on Kaladin's mind either; they hadn't run into any lighteyes lording themselves over darkeyes ever since arriving in Topina.

And now they were thinking about home. That wouldn't do. “Hey, you have the rest of the day off, right? And you work by the docks. Want to show me around?”

Troubles forgotten, Tien perked up. “Yeah, sure!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is somewhat slow, but Kaladin just got stabbed by a big piece of wood so I think he deserves a little break. But after that all bets are off, because it is a beautiful day and I am a horrible writer and I got plans. :)
> 
> A few non-chapter-relevant thoughts:  
> I have some headcanons/crack theories I’m thinking of incorporating into the later parts of this fic. Anyone got interesting ideas or thoughts about how Zahel being a hidden Bondsmith would affect things? How realistic does it sound, with what we know of Bondsmiths? If someone’s interested I could probably explain my chain of reasoning for coming up with the idea.


	12. Syl's attention span is relatable

Small as Topina may have been, it was still a port. It bustled with activity: locals fishing, travellers resupplying, and merchants selling their goods. It was a far cry from what Kaladin was used to, as he usually stayed near the inn and clinic uptown.

Tien, on the other hand, was well within his comfort zone. Despite all his energy, and the way he excitedly pointed out interesting stalls (and rocks he found), he seemed to blend in perfectly with the throng around them. The stalls really were interesting. Some had intricately designed decorations, or finely wrought metalwork, or even fabrials. They stayed at that last one for quite a while; Tien had a lot to say about his theories on fabrial function, and whether that would be applicable to his own Stormlight gimmicks. 

They did eventually move on, though. “Let's go eat. I know this place I get lunch at, they have really good  _ chouta _ . And the cook is really nice, they help me practice my Herdazian! After that, I can probably show you the shipbuilding yard.” Tien grabbed Kaladin’s arm and dragged him through the crowd. For a moment, Kaladin caught a glimpse of Syl from whatever stall had caught her attention. Then they were moving on.

When they arrived, the food stall was busy. If Tien’s glowing praise was any indication, that popularity was probably deserved. The long line was, thankfully, offset by the rapid speed at which servings were doled out. It was only a few minutes before Kaladin and Tien arrived at the front. 

The cook recognized Tien on sight, and greeted him with a boisterous “Welcome, young cousin!” in Herdazian, accompanied with a fond ruffle of Tien’s hair. They then seemed to realize Kaladin’s presence, as they followed with, “Oh, you are Kellad, right? Let’s meet some other time, when less busy,” and handed them the food the pair paid for. 

_ Chouta _ wraps in hand, Tien led a bemused Kaladin to a niche where they could escape the busy crowd. While they ate, Syl showed up from whatever fixation had previously drawn her in. Mottle was probably there too, not that Kaladin could tell. He’d given up on keeping track of Mottle’s location.

Tien finished his  _ chouta _ first. “So, what do you think, Kellad?” He hummed a little tune, and the wall echoed back. So Mottle was there.  _ Somewhere _ . 

Kaladin took a few seconds to finish his own, making sure to appreciate the savory flavor. “It’s good. It's nice to get out, see new stuff.” He looked out of the niche, up between the walls around them, at the sky above them. Not a sign of the Highstorm that had swept through just yesterday. With a sigh, Kaladin drew back in next to Tien. “Thanks.”

Tien smiled. “Of course. I wanted to show it to you.” They sat there, together, for a few minutes. Neither moved until Tien stood. “Well then. Want to see where I work?”

* * *

Tien’s workplace was far larger than Kaladin expected, though in retrospect it made sense. Tien wasn’t just working with small figurines anymore; his job was at a shipyard. The two of them (plus spren) stayed near the outskirts, well clear of the teams working together to assemble actual ships. 

Tien gave a running commentary on everything. “Before, most of my experience was working with small pieces, so my master started me off with small parts that didn’t take much coordination. But she recently let me start working on the big stuff, and there’s a lot of neat combinations once you get the hang of it. And Mottle helps too, they picked it up really easily. So, anyway, you see that? Well-” 

Kaladin listened, trying to keep track of the increasingly technical explanations until he was completely lost. Syl looked rapt in attention, especially when Tien suggested that he may eventually get to help with installing fabrials in the ships. Maybe he could figure out how to make them by interacting with them.

Somebody in the yard noticed them and approached, and Tien cut himself off to wave at them. “That’s my master! She’s really nice. She doesn’t speak a lot of Alethi so it was hard to communicate at first, but I’m a lot better at Herdazian now.” 

She arrived. “Hey, Kellad, yes? Great to meet you. Call me  _ gancha _ .” Syl translated for him, but said nothing about what  _ gancha _ meant. Gancha and Syl had matching mischievous smirks. It was probably better not to question it. Kaladin nodded and provided his own pleasantries, using what meager Herdazian he knew. 

“So, you’ve never been here before, Kellad. What’dya say I show the two of you something?” Not waiting for a response, Gancha beckoned to them to follow. As she passed the workers, she shouted, “Early break! You’re welcome.” As instructed, the workers scattered like cremlings. 

Gancha turned and shot a grin at Tien. “Hey, Ti, I heard you’re interested in fabrials. Ya? Since you're eager enough to come back here, I think I can arrange something for you.” Well, if there was any way to draw Tien's attention, that was it. Kaladin just hoped it lived up to those expectations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how to write fluff (I’m just here for the angst/plot/humor yo) but this is where the previous scene naturally flows, and as the story demands, so it must be. I shall do as the dark gods command of me.
> 
> How worldbuilding works, apparently: I unleash my brain in a scene, then my brain decides [IDEA] IS CANON NOW, DEAL WITH IT


	13. Back to the plot, thank the Dark Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a lot of the side characters, I’m imagining that they have backstories/background events with Shenanigans going on, which don’t fit into the Kaladin-centric narrative. Would anybody be interested in me writing, at some point, another work in the series that has stories centered around whatever the hell is going on with side characters before/after Kaladin is within their vicinity?

In front of them was a grand ship, just recently pulled into port. Kaladin could make out part of its name carved onto the hull: _Trail_ -something. Gancha looked at the boat like it was an old friend. “I helped make it. More than a decade ago, when I was just a young man. Glad _that’s_ over with, at least. But that’s not what I’m here for, let’s see… Ah, she should know.” 

Gancha beelined for Drakb, who was heading toward a registration building. Drakb, spotting her, stopped. “Oh. Why are you here?” 

With a faux-offended look, Gancha responded, “What, I have to be here for a reason? Is your delightful company not enough? ...Completely unrelated, I was wondering where our guests on the _Trail Flight_ may happen to be.” 

Drakb rolled her eyes, but answered. “They haven’t even left the ship yet. And considering the ship is right there, I doubt you could miss them.” The two of them interacted a little more before Gancha directed them to head toward the ship. Sure enough, people were starting to head out. 

While Gancha scanned the outgoing crowd for whoever she was looking for, Kaladin vacantly watched everything going on. One person caught his eye; while there was nothing visually distinctive about them, _something_ about them felt... off. “Syl,” he whispered, “why am I getting a bad feeling about that person?” 

Syl seemed to know who Kaladin was talking about, even without him pointing. “I don’t know, but I think I feel the same. You stay here, I’ll follow them.” Without waiting for his reply, Syl flitted off. Well then. 

Kaladin forced himself to return his attention to Gancha, who had apparently spotted the specific someone she was searching for. After a brief wait time, she singled out the person and tapped them on the shoulder. Without Syl there to translate, Kaladin only understood a few words of their rapid conversation. He did understand the gesture to follow, though.

* * *

Kaladin did not understand any of the conversation in front of him. Some of it may have been in Alethi, but there was a liberal amount of Herdazian sprinkled in and, from what he could tell, the the other half of the words Tien and the artifabrian exchanged were specialized terms. Kaladin was naught but a simple doctor, whereas Tien had apparently done his research with what little resources they had available on the matter. Kaladin was impressed. 

Instead, Kaladin spent the conversation wondering about the person Syl was following. Why had he felt that so strongly? What about that random person out of hundreds stood out? When the conversation ended, Tien had to drag Kaladin to his feet to snap his attention back to the present. Storms, Kaladin hadn’t drifted that bad in a while.

After thanking and saying goodbye to Gancha, Tien looked at Kaladin with concern in his eyes, even though he clearly wanted to babble on excitedly about the whole fabrial conversation. Kaladin made sure to reassure him. “Salves are more my strong suit than technology, I didn’t understand nearly any of that conversation. Think you could put it into words this simpleminded layman can understand?” 

As expected, Tien snickered and took that as permission to talk about everything. “I didn’t actually get much of the technical stuff because apparently there’s a lot of trade secrets. But they agreed to give a few hints, so I did learn something. So, there’s something inside gems that make Stormlight perform a certain function, and metals around the gem can change how that function is carried out. Theoretically, I could do that too. There’s so many _possibilities_! And you haven't tried making a sphere do your attraction thing yet, right? So that's another dimension to explore!” 

Tien was practically bouncing in excitement. Kaladin could hear a faint humming, so Mottle was probably equally interested. He smiled; those two were a great match. 

Kaladin agreed to try storing his Radiant powers in a sphere, like Tien could do with invisibility and colors. However, they were nearly back to the inn when they ran into Bakkai. “Oh, Kellad, I was looking for you. Figured you may want to talk to the person you saved. She’s awake.” Right, Kaladin had almost forgotten about that with how busy the day had been. Kaladin looked back at Tien, to see whether he minded waiting to test Stormlight abilities and spheres. Tien shrugged. No problem on that end.

Syl still wasn’t back yet, but doing nothing wouldn’t make her come back sooner. “Let's go.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Gancha in a lesbian polycule with Drakb, the artifabrian, and probably 3 other people? Yes, because I say so. Will it be written in the fic? No, bc this is gen and I don’t like writing actual romancey stuff. Headcanons and vague allusions are the extent of my desire to interact with romance.
> 
> Also Gancha really wants to adopt Kaladin and Tien. Grumpy and smol adult childs, perfect for being raised by 6 moms.


	14. Three international fugitives walk into a bar-

The person Kaladin had saved was still in bed at the clinic, although she was sitting up now. She looked at him with poorly-concealed suspicion. Bakkai had talked to her when she had first woken up, and apparently she hadn’t been very forthcoming. All they knew about her was that she was Thaylen, with those eyebrows, and had somehow ended up on the beach during a Highstorm. Shipwrecked, most likely.

No time like the present. “You’re injured, right? How does everything feel?" 

"Fine."

This conversation was getting nowhere fast. "I'm Kellad. Would you mind giving me something to call you, besides 'Random Stranger who happened to be out in the middle of a Highstorm'?"

Random Stranger looked surprised and slightly amused at the sarcastic response, and looked to the side, as if thinking. “You may call me… Taykz. My ship was destroyed, before the Highstorm. That's it."

Kaladin ignored the conspicuous pause in name production. He wasn't exactly one to judge others for obvious lies. Instead, he considered the situation. "You don't have any supplies or money. Is there anything you need?"

Takyz raised one of her long eyebrow. "Besides everything? No." Kaladin was too tired for this.

"Look. I'm trying to help you here. Work with me, please."

Chagrined, Taykz acquiesced. "I know how to do a variety of things. Is there a job I could do, to get some spheres?"

* * *

Taykz had been a sailor before, and she wasn’t kidding when she said that she had experience with odd jobs. Bakkai insisted she didn’t need to pay for the healing services, but she couldn’t live in the clinic all day either. They set her up with crutches to help with walking, and arranged for a small wage in exchange for odd jobs around the clinic. 

While Taykz had started out skeptical, as she relaxed it became clear how cheerful she could be. She started to loosen up during dinner, at which point she starting regaling Tien with dubiously accurate tales about adventure on the high seas or what have ye. Afterwards, Kaladin headed back to the inn with Tien and Taykz trailing behind him. They had switched to talking about their apparent shared interest in fabrial mechanics.

Their conversation was well underway, when Syl finally returned. Seeing her, Kaladin waved goodbye in the general direction of Tien - who continued walking toward the inn - and looked for somewhere quiet to talk to Syl. 

Syl looked anxious, and started talking as soon as Kaladin found a convenient niche. “I didn’t see anything suspicious, but still, that feeling was definitely there. They're pretty important, too. J ust walked in and demanded things! I found out where they’re staying the night, so I’ll follow them again tomorrow. Kaladin, please, be careful.” 

Kaladin considered the meagre information, then nodded. Both of them felt something was off about the stranger, so it was probably worth keeping an eye on them until they knew for sure, one way or the other. And he was decent enough at Herdazian that he could live a day without Syl as a translator. Who knew, maybe Taykz could even help him out with her alleged lingual abilities. “Yeah, find out what’s going on.”

* * *

Somehow, in the half hour Kaladin was gone, Tien and Taykz had set up an impromptu… he wasn’t sure what it was, actually. It looked like something of a mess at the moment, with tangles of wire held together by pins. 

Tien looked up and beamed when he saw Kaladin. “Hey, Taykz is showing me how fabrials work! It’s really cool, she learned all of this from messing around with them. Apparently the gems need a spren to do stuff in most cases.” He poked at the wires, shifting them around. Kaladin had no doubt that the moment Taykz left, Tien would try to find out how the metal affected an invisibility-imbued sphere. And Kaladin still had to try imbuing a sphere, himself. Right.

Syl flitted around Taykz, although the spren didn’t reveal herself if the lack of reaction was any indicator. At the moment, Taykz was on an excited tangent about different metals. Her Alethi really was rather impressive, almost fluent. “Some fabrials can make interesting combinations, but I couldn’t get access to all types of spren so I don't know all of them. Fabrial artisans like to obscure, too, hide their tricks. So many possibilities, and I don't know them. I wonder, what about spren that represent more abstract concepts? What fabrial results would manifest from those, and what ways could we combine them?” Syl nodded thoughtfully, a small set of blue-white glasses on her nose. Kaladin pointedly  _ did not _ think of his father. He looked away from her, toward the window.

_ Hakkala _ , it was really late; the Highstorm fiasco must have thrown off his sense of time. And Taykz was injured, and they hadn't gotten around to finding her a place to stay… “Taykz, do you have a place to sleep? I can ask if the inn has a free room. It’s best to avoid walking more than necessary, with that leg.”

Taykz looked from her cast, to him, and back again, then shrugged. “Yes, probably is for the best."

Unfortunately, the last free rooms in the inn had been taken earlier in the day. With how many people he had seen leaving the _Trail Flight_ , Kaladin was not surprised. He was, however, frustrated; injured people really shouldn't be out and about more than necessary. 

When Kaladin came back to the room, he found Taykz lying on his bed while Tien piled pillows below her broken leg to raise it. What? Tien looked guilty, while Taykz looked at him as if she was daring him to say anything. "This is my bed now, Tien said so." 

Kaladin used his best dry voice when he said, "I actually came here to tell you that there's no extra rooms. But I see you've already got everything figured out." He sighed and left them to it. Storm him and his bleeding heart. 

That night, Kaladin returned to sleeping on the ground. He couldn’t quite bring himself to regret it, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taykz has claimed Tien. She is his sibling now. Sorry Kaladin she’s just cooler, and shares his interests, and says so. 
> 
> I didn’t even mean for that name to be sus, but apparently my subconscious has a better humor than me. Outwitted by myself smh


End file.
